


sometimes the world isnt kind

by bertyose



Category: DSMP - Fandom, Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), mcyt
Genre: Deaths, Floris | Fundy Angst, Violence, Wilbur Soot Angst, Zombie Apocalypse, dsmp zombie apocalypse, fundy is a baby, mcyt zombie apocalypse, not much shipping of sally and wilbur tbh, some sally stuff y e s, some slight graphic descriptions of zombies and wounds, the pov may change a bit so im sorry if it’s confusing!, wilbur is good this time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:53:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29141070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bertyose/pseuds/bertyose
Summary: - dream smp zombie apocalypse au -happiness is hard to secure now. every small ounce of hope instantly gets blown away, always. a man, lost within the beaten world finds himself a reason to cary on. maybe finally he wont feel so alone.-in which its four years into the zombie apoc and wilbur is trying to find his family, he comes across a women who is in desperate need of help.
Relationships: Floris | Fundy & Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot/Original Character(s), phil watson and techno
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	sometimes the world isnt kind

rivers crash as crows cry. muddy land colliding with the mans knees as he slumps with exhaustion. in. out. in. out. in. out. breath.. you can finally breath.. 

the blond peered down at his reflection in the stream, shell-shocked eyes staring back. mud and- was that blood?, dotted around his face, so hands cautiously dipped into the water and messily flicked it up to his cheeks. it was cold but he didnt care. he didnt care. he had other matters, things, people to care about. people, his people. where were they? 

hurriedly, the man scrambled up onto his feet, more dark patches staining his green coat. he scanned the tree lime, searching for any signs of life. or death. he had to look out for death now too. where are they? why aren’t they here yet? “run and meet at the river”, it ain’t that har- 

“PHIL!-“ a man exploded out from the tree line, stumbling towards the river bed. he panted, exhausted and doubled over, sending a small gaze up to the older man. they both shared a small smile, the blonde over joyed that one of the boys has mad it back. but that wasn’t all of them.. he needed all of them. 

“techno! did you see the others?-“ the boy shook his head, still trying to catch up on his breaths. this stuff was still so confusing to the group, they are unexperienced and have no idea how to act. philza was so sure that running would of been the best option but now he had no clue. he shouldn’t of split up. he should of payed more attention. he should of made sure that all four of them were together, at all times. why didnt he do that? 

a distant yell quickly pulled the two out of deep thoughts. their eyes fell onto each other, swapping looks of confused and hope. the yell only grew louder and as the words came into focus phil instantly knew who the owner was. phil started towards the tree line, tugging his hat slightly forwards to shield himself from the rising sun. suddenly a tall male rushed out in front of the blonde. he was panting, brown hair plastered with sweat. the evening glow casted shadows on his face, revealing big eyes with worry. 

“fuck, there you are wil!, did you see wher-“ 

“he’s-!” wilbur stuttered, interrupting phils sentence. “he-.. he was behind- then.. we, we got.. he-“ sharp breaths left the man, eyes frantically moving between the two as his body twisted towards the woods. “w-we gotta’.. we gotta go back! we need to, now!” desperateness inked his voice as words spluttered out. phils hand slipped onto wilburs shoulder, giving a small nod. 

they were heading back straight into danger. back into the woods which was drowned with dead. this wasn’t something philza really wanted to do, but they had no choice. he had to. he had to find the rest of his family. 

—- 

motors rasp, spitting out intoxicating fumes as the vehicle lulls to a stop. all past sounds died down, leaving distant growls and the infuriating groans of a man. his fist clench and eyebrows raise, sudden hammer like hands colliding into the steering wheel. “FUCK!-“ he expressed, eyes fluttering towards the grimy windows. his pupils expand as hazel eyes narrow, staring off into the distance. “for fucks sake.. this cant be happening-“ 

fog hugged the morning air, dancing around the open land. wilbur stumbled messily out of the car, sending a forceful kick in the wheel along with muttered swears. for the first time in months the man had finally got some sort of clue. he had a purpose, a plan to follow. no longer did he have to aimlessly walk around, he finally had a proper location to search. to hunt down and salvage any signs of his lost family. but happiness always had to be destroyed in a cruel world like this. it was a sad truth the man was used to facing. 

he buried his dirt infested face into the warmth of his hands, taking in a few gasps of air. the day was new and freezing. winter was finally approaching. honestly, the man enjoyed the cold, it reminded him that he was still alive and breathing. it sticks knives into his skin, pushing him to cary on. the winter winds acts as a personal trainer, urging his every bone to keep on moving. sure, the cold wasn’t nice but it kept the job on keeping him alive. 

knotted strands of hair fluttered in the wind as the males arms dropped to his side. he took one last agitated glare to the hunk of junk which resembled a car, flipping a backpack over his shoulder. and off he went, treading on through the isolated roads, finishing the journey by foot. muscles already threatened to ache, remembering the awkward positions from trying to sleep. that was a task he always failed to complete. a restful night never came easy. 

the morning cry of birds filtered through the air as the man trekked on. his eyes constantly darted around the barren roads, searching for any signs of “life”. he zigged-zagged around each abandoned car, probably deserted by people who had no idea what was happening. no idea what they were getting themselves into. 

wilbur grabbed the remains of his ragged mustard scarf, tucking it snugly over his nose. the fog still hadn’t cleared. the wind pricked and chewed at anything it could get its teeth on, carrying the distant groans of the dead. the dead... shit. 

it was hard to distinguish shapes in the distance, the new weather proving to be a pain. but he could hear them. where were they? sound travels weird with the wind but they were somewhere.. nearby? wilbur stopped in his tracks, his right hand slithering towards his belt as fingers danced across the “just in case” weapon. he grimaced, memories of how he somehow lost his old weapon creeping in. honestly, what an idiot. disbelief of how he could accomplish something so stupid like that still wrecked his brain, but now wasn’t the time to be hung up on the past. no. he needed to stay alert, he had to stay focused. he had to. because he sure wasn’t planning on joining the dead toady. 

he slipped the screwdriver away from the belt, legs suddenly roaring back into action. his pace quickened from before, almost running at one point. he let his eyes focus on the outline of a building forming on the sky line. it wasn’t too far, if he had to he could make it there in three minutes. the building was alone, parked next to the wrecked road. if he had to guess it was probably some sort of petrol station. that meant food, warmth, shelter. fantastic. 

a crack of flesh on metal erupted into the air, a loud snarl stealing wilburs attention. to his left stood a repulsive sight, a women with clear, rotting eyes twisted her head upwards, clicking her throat. her body twitched, hungrily leant on the bonnet of a car. for a moment she was still and so was the man. panic had washed over him, rooting his feet to the ground. you fucker, run. as his mind clicked back on his feet dragged him across the road. at the same moment the women threw herself over the car, landing, crouched by where wilbur just was, bolting after him like an animal. 

in moments like these wilbur always thought it was best to run. especially when he didn’t have his proper weapon. fighting was risky, running was easy. all he had to do was to not slow down. not in the slightest. he had to keep up, keep up his stamina, his pace. just run. keep running. don’t look back, don’t you dare look back. don’t you fucking dare. the outline of the building thickened, slowly revealing an old petrol station. the cries of dead grew louder behind him, thrashing and panting overbearing his eardrums. just get to the building. get to the building. get to the building. 

the inhuman growls suddenly died out, no more unrhythmic footsteps following his own. silence washed over the beast behind him but wilbur clambered on. he didnt take that as an invitation to stop. no way. his legs glided through the air as his body soon collided into a door. however, before he locked himself away the male stole a look towards the women. he stared at the gross, twisted body, watched as her head clipped upwards once more. the thing stumbled from one foot to the other, mouth twitching as suddenly a loud, animalistic cry ripped through her mouth. the scream was desperate and painful. 

“f-fuck!” wilbur sputtered, his hands shooting up to his hears as he fell backwards into the doorway. with a simple lock of the handle the wailing stopped. well, he could still hear the slight hum of squeals in the back ground but he chose to ignore that. he was safe. safe now.. safe. 

the air felt oddly stale in the station, small trickles of sunlight escaping from the plastered windows. it felt suffocating inside but as long as he was safe it was fine. wait.. no, you idiot! not safe. not yet. the building the man hurried inside was still a massive unknown mystery. he had to lurk around, check all the cracks and crevices for any dead. then, he will be safe. safe at last. 

wilbur sluggishly let his backpack slide off of his shoulders, landing onto a counter with a soft plop. he soon brought the blunt screwdriver up to his head, checking out each shelf that resided in the shop. it was a small station, only having three rows of shelving which sadly held little to no food. that doesn’t matter right now though. he could scavenge for food later, now wasn’t the time. 

the lack of light wasn’t making the current task any easy. the sleep deprived man had to squint his eyes, trying to make out any odd shapes in the shadows. one last row then done. one more then you’re safe. safe. safe... he traveled down towards the end of the room, goosebumps quickly appearing from a sudden chill. it’s going to be fine, he told himself. it will be fine and safe. everything is going to be fine and you’ll be sa- 

shaking on the floor, kneeled a young women. a splodge of dark crimson was smeared over her cheek, auburn hair messily tied back. a gun sat between her two hands pointed straight up at the males head, her fingers tracing circles over the trigger. she was panting, desperately needing air to enter her lungs. everything was so quiet, yet loud at the same time. 

wilbur staggered backwards, hands instantly shooting up defensively into the air. his eyebrows knotted in confusion before he suddenly doubled over and started to gag. an unexpected smell smacked him in the face, intoxicating and venomous. a smell so foul his senses became demented. watering eyes quickly shot up to meet the girls, searching for an answer. they burned with pain, shortly finding the owner of the rotting smell. laid there, sprawled in blood, was a dead. now truly dead. gone for good. its body was twisted in many impossible directions, a red cave sat in the middle of its head. what a repulsive sight to see. 

“w-wha.. i-“ wilbur choked, coughing on the poisonous fumes which still laid about. “-i.. fuck.”

**Author's Note:**

> ahh, i hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> i really love zombie apocalypse films, shows, stories and ext so i enjoyed writing this a lot! i’ll probably turn this into a series and write everyones own pov of the apocalypse as there is so much to explore. 
> 
> also, follow me on tumblr if you want.. ;) my @ is bertyose


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